


Myopia

by longleggedgit



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longleggedgit/pseuds/longleggedgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidoh doesn't know exactly what to think about Inui's glasses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Myopia

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007. Thanks to [](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/)**anjenue** for the beta.

Kaidoh can’t help but start to worry when he realizes he and Inui have kissed a total of eleven times and yet he’s still never seen Inui’s eyes. He’s caught glimpses, sure; a flash of green when Inui bends down toward him, sometimes a brush of his eyelashes against the lenses, but he’s never seen both eyes at once, unimpeded by the glare of the frames. It’s becoming increasingly frustrating, because Kaidoh knows _he_ is constantly exposed, every emotion readable the moment it crosses his face, as plain as if written down in a book. If it’s not his wide eyes giving him away, it’s his damned blushing, and really it’s just not _fair_. Kaidoh can never hide anything from Inui, whereas he’s never got the faintest idea as to what Inui is thinking.

Well. Almost never. Sometimes Inui can be so forward it’s hard not to know exactly what’s on his mind.

“Kaidoh,” Inui’s voice croons, and Kaidoh unintentionally jumps, unnerved by how close Inui can get before he realizes he’s there – not to mention the fact that he’s practically got his mouth on Kaidoh’s ear, and they’re in _school._

“Senpai,” Kaidoh says, turning around and taking a step back. He glances up and down the hallway to make sure no one is watching, and, when he’s confident that the only other students in sight are thoroughly distracted, he smiles.

Inui rests a hand on Kaidoh’s shoulder, squeezing slightly, and Kaidoh blushes and glances again at the other students, who are still ignoring them. He doesn’t pull away.

“Would you like to spend the weekend at my house?” Inui says, and Kaidoh thinks, from the tone of his voice, this is one of those occasions when it’s all too easy to tell what’s on his mind.

“Spend the weekend?” Kaidoh repeats, shifting the bag on his shoulder anxiously.

They’ve never even spent a night together before, apart from group sleepovers with the entire tennis team, and they’ve definitely never done anything beyond kissing. Well. Sometimes there’s groping, but Kaidoh doesn’t really see the harm in that, except for the one time Inui grabbed his ass on their way out of the locker rooms, in plain view of everyone. Kaidoh hadn’t talked to him for a day, which was more than adequate punishment for Inui, who now saves groping for their study sessions.

“Kaidoh?”

“Sorry,” Kaidoh says quickly, lowering his head. “Uh – I’m not sure –“

“My parents will be out of town,” Inui says. “They prefer for me to have someone else at home with me when they’re gone.”

Kaidoh’s eyes widen. Now it’s not only an invitation to spend the weekend together, but unsupervised. And if that quirk at the corner of Inui’s mouth doesn’t mean he has some ulterior motives in mind, Kaidoh will eat his bandana.

“I – don’t know if my parents will let me,” he says, not entirely untruthfully. His mother and father both adore Inui – they think he’s a good influence because he’s a year older and he always helps Kaidoh with his homework – but they’re somewhat strict about parental supervision.

“My parents have spoken to yours already, of course,” Inui says. “They’ve given permission, provided you call them at least once over the course of the weekend.”

Kaidoh’s mouth drops open in disbelief, and Inui takes his stunned silence as an opportunity to continue speaking.

“I hope you’re not angry. They informed me of their plans only last night, so since we had very little time to prepare, I had them call right away.”

Kaidoh struggles between deciding if he’s more upset with Inui for being so presumptuous or with his parents for not even bothering to tell him about the phone call. Then Inui tilts his head and gives Kaidoh that one damn smile that he never gives anyone else, where just one side of his mouth lifts up and the tiniest hint of dimples stand out against his cheeks and his eyebrow raises, and Kaidoh can’t even work up the energy to be mad anymore. Now he’s just got to deal with the nervous fluttering feeling in his stomach that he gets every time they kiss, only this time it’s not promising to go away as soon as Inui does.

At least he can still be mad at his parents.

“Okay,” Kaidoh says shakily, and Inui’s smile widens into a full-fledged grin.

“See you at practice, then,” Inui says, and he gives Kaidoh’s shoulder a final squeeze before dropping his hand and heading down the hall toward the third year classrooms.

When Kaidoh turns, trips over his own feet, and lands on his face in the middle of the hall, the other students finally notice him.

~

Kaidoh rings Inui’s doorbell with as much calmness as he can possibly muster, and then, before his finger has even left the buzzer, his stomach lurches, so violently he thinks for a terrified, desperate moment _I’m going to be sick_ , and he bends over, clutching his waist and clenching his eyes shut until the wave of nausea passes and he can stand up straight. He is immediately grateful he does, because within the next second Inui is there, opening the front door with a smile that quickly fades.

“Kaidoh? Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Kaidoh grunts, and he hesitates before he steps inside, weighing briefly the possibility of running away but knowing he could never do it if it meant hurting Inui’s feelings. He crosses the threshold resignedly, almost positive he can _feel_ the color draining from his face.

“Are you sure?” Inui says as he closes the door behind him.

“Yes,” Kaidoh says, and he makes his best attempt at a smile. Inui doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject.

“You can take your bag up to my room,” he says.

“Okay.” Kaidoh takes the stairs two at a time, cursing himself for being so nervous and stupid and completely _transparent_ , and he pulls open the door to Inui’s room, roughly lifting his bag to throw it onto the bed.

Then something on the bed moves, and Kaidoh stops himself just in time, letting the bag slip from his grasp onto the floor. He hears Inui approach from behind him.

“You – have a cat?” Kaidoh says, dumbfounded.

“We’re taking care of her for the neighbors while they’re away,” Inui says. Kaidoh wonders if he’s imagining the amusement in Inui’s voice.

Kaidoh says nothing, merely steps forward and holds a hand out to the orange and white tabby, who sniffs it once, then licks it and lets out a contented purr. Kaidoh feels the tightness in his stomach ease slightly.

“What’s her name?” Kaidoh asks.

“Michiko.”

Kaidoh strokes Michiko’s back until he realizes with a jolt he’s been standing there not paying any attention to Inui for an unforgivably long time, and he turns to face him again, cheeks reddening as he bows in apology.

“Sorry,” he says, and Inui just laughs.

“Would you like dinner?” Before Kaidoh can respond, Inui adds, “You can bring the cat.”

~

The cat stays at Kaidoh’s feet the entire meal, rubbing against his ankles and purring so loudly it borders on obscene. Kaidoh looks up from time to time to see if it’s bothering Inui, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so Kaidoh simply relaxes and enjoys her company, grateful for the respite she lends his stomach. He’s not positive if Inui knows just how much he likes cats, but he suspects Michiko’s presence the very weekend Inui invited him over is less than a coincidence. Not that the idea particularly troubles him. In truth, it’s sort of flattering.

“Thank you for dinner,” Kaidoh says once they’ve finished, and he helps Inui carry their dishes into the kitchen, placing them in the sink when he sees they have no dishwasher.

“I can help wash if you –“ Kaidoh begins, then stops, breath hitching, when he feels Inui brush up very close behind him and rest his chin on Kaidoh’s shoulder.

The nervousness is back in his stomach, but Inui presses a kiss to the side of his neck, gently, without lingering for too long, and Kaidoh’s eyes flutter closed as he leans back, letting Inui wrap his arms around his waist.

“Inui . . .” Kaidoh says in a whisper, and Inui says nothing, just _breathes_ against his skin, and Kaidoh’s stomach twists again but not at all in a bad way.

“I’m glad you came,” Inui says after a little while.

Kaidoh can’t quite reply to that, so he remains silent, unsurprised when Inui shifts so they are face to face, Kaidoh’s arms caught between their chests. He realizes this is probably going to be kiss number twelve, and he braces for it, grateful he no longer feels nauseous, even if his stomach is still all tangly. Then Inui’s lips brush against his, and he thinks now it really feels more melty than tangly, which is a good thing, and as Inui sucks at his bottom lip, Kaidoh sighs, allowing his eyes to open just barely, something he’s never yet dared while kissing.

As soon as he does, he freezes, his entire body going rigid in Inui’s arms. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t ignore the sharp stab of annoyance when he sees Inui’s glasses, again acting as a shield, shutting Kaidoh out, making him embarrassed to be so comparatively exposed.

Inui stops and pulls back, frowning, and just as Kaidoh opens his mouth to speak, an impatient mewling causes both of them to look down. Michiko winds herself around Kaidoh’s ankles once more, and Kaidoh steps back and stoops over to pick her up. Inui coughs and looks away.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Inui says after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, and Kaidoh nods, clutching Michiko more tightly.

~

The movie would probably be of great interest to Kaidoh if he could focus on it for more than a second at a time, but he finds the only thing he can focus on is Inui, seated to his right and uncharacteristically still, almost as if he’s afraid to move. They’ve watched movies together before, and usually Inui is relaxed, comfortable enough to rest his shoulder against Kaidoh’s or even brush his fingers across Kaidoh’s leg. Tonight, Kaidoh suspects Inui is trying not to touch him, and as much as he might not like that Inui has such a clear upper hand on him all the time, he thinks this enforced distance has to be a lot worse.

Kaidoh realizes his attention has drifted entirely away from the movie and he shakes his head, forces his eyes to concentrate on the screen while he rubs Michiko’s ears. She is sprawled across his lap leisurely, and her purr hasn’t stopped since the movie started, which, Kaidoh thinks guiltily, is probably pretty annoying. Inui hasn’t said anything, though, and as Michiko is probably the only thing keeping Kaidoh from fainting with anxiousness, he can’t bring himself to stop petting her.

It isn’t until the soundtrack to the movie changes that Kaidoh’s attention is truly piqued, and his eyes widen, hand going still on top of Michiko’s head. The music suddenly has the sort of eerie quality to it that most music gets just before something jumps out at the main character in a horror movie. He’s pretty sure it’s _not_ a horror movie – it’s about samurai, or maybe cowboys or something – but Kaidoh watches in growing trepidation as the character onscreen stands alone in the middle of a dark forest, surrounded by giant trees, trees big enough that _anything_ could be hiding behind them, and then something rustles in the leaves to the character’s right, which is enough to make Kaidoh jump halfway out of his seat.

Michiko does not appreciate the sudden jolt, and Kaidoh winces when she digs her claws into his right arm, hissing as she leaps away from his lap and darts from the room.

Kaidoh is just thinking he probably deserves it when Inui takes hold of his wrist.

“Are you all right?” he says, voice laced with concern.

Kaidoh looks down at the scratches, which are deep enough to draw blood and already getting pink and puffy.

“I’m fine,” Kaidoh says, flushing. “I’m sort of allergic, it’s why my mom won’t let me –“

“ _What?_ ” Inui immediately stands, pulling Kaidoh to his feet with him, and drags him down the hall, not stopping until they’re in the bathroom. He flicks on the light and lets go of Kaidoh’s arm in order to open a drawer and dig out a first aid kit.

“Really, it’s fine,” Kaidoh insists, but Inui only shakes his head impatiently, taking hold of Kaidoh’s arm again.

“Cat scratches can become very easily infected,” he says, “and lead to serious complications, particularly for those with allergies.”

“It won’t –“ Kaidoh begins, but the words die on his tongue when he looks down to see Inui, dabbing at his scratches with a damp cotton swab, his glasses lying discarded on the counter. He is bent over so Kaidoh can at first only see the top of his head, but when Inui notices his stunned silence, he looks up, and that tangly twisting something takes hold of Kaidoh’s stomach and squeezes, _hard_ , because there are Inui’s eyes, big and green and worried and maybe even a little nervous, and that’s all because of _him_.

“Kaidoh?” Inui says, and Kaidoh can’t reply because he’s too fixated on the way Inui’s eyes narrow when he talks – it’s especially obvious because his eyes are big, bigger, he thinks, than Kikumaru’s even – and on the way his left eye seems to be just a shade darker than the right if he looks really close, and how his eyelashes are dark and long and they actually _remind_ Kaidoh of a pair of glasses because of the way they perfectly frame his eyes.

“You took off your glasses,” Kaidoh says once he’s caught his breath, and it almost makes him dizzy when Inui’s forehead creases in confusion, because now he can see the way it causes his eyelids to droop.

Inui stands, and Kaidoh lifts his head so he can continue to watch him unblinkingly, desperate to take in as much of this as he possibly can.

“I’m nearsighted,” Inui says, bewildered, and he lets Kaidoh’s arm drop so he can place his hands on his shoulders.

“I just – wanted to see,” Kaidoh says lamely, and he finally allows himself to look away, leaning forward and resting his face against Inui’s chest. He thinks he’s memorized them now; Inui can put his glasses back on and he might never see his eyes again, but Kaidoh will remember, he’s sure, and that’s good enough.

Inui doesn’t immediately reply, but he does lift a hand to run through Kaidoh’s hair, soothingly, as if calming a skittish pet. “Why didn’t you just ask?” he says after a pause.

Kaidoh nearly stutters in indignation. “That’s – everyone knows – Eiji’s asked you, and – and Momoshiro, and you always –“

“You’re not Eiji or Momoshiro,” Inui says, and at last there’s a familiar hint of amusement behind his words.

Kaidoh swallows, suddenly realizing he’s been really, really stupid.

“Oh,” he says when he can’t figure out how to say anything else.

“Oh,” Inui agrees, and he gives Kaidoh’s shoulders a squeeze before letting go and returning his attention to the cat scratches.

Inui applies antibiotic cream to Kaidoh’s arm quietly and looks up when he’s finished, smiling in a perplexed sort of way, probably because Kaidoh can’t stop staring.

“Is it really that surprising?” he asks, still kneeling on the floor.

Kaidoh feels his face going red but refuses to look away. “Um. Your eyes are really nice,” he says, almost kicking himself for how dumb it sounds.

But Inui, Kaidoh realizes in amazement, now looks _embarrassed_ – Kaidoh can tell because of the way his eyes shift to the side and his eyebrows knit together and he clears his throat – and he’s so relieved by the sight that he can’t even feel awkward and stupid anymore, just happy and satisfied and maybe ready to finish that twelfth kiss.

“Thank you –“ Inui begins, and Kaidoh reaches down and tugs at his collar until he stands, tugs again so their chests bump together. Inui’s eyes widen in surprise, which only makes Kaidoh’s stomach go warm in a pleasant, not-tangly sort of way, so he lifts his arms and wraps them around Inui’s neck, and Inui, not needing any further encouragement, presses him against the counter and kisses him.

Kiss number twelve – Kaidoh has decided this is officially twelve, because the last try didn’t work out quite right so it doesn’t count – is by far the best. Kiss number twelve is long and messy and rough, and Inui has one hand on the small of his back and one hand in his hair and sometimes his tongue is in Kaidoh’s mouth, probing and coaxing and teasing and doing all sorts of things Kaidoh didn’t think he would like, but he _definitely_ likes them now. Kaidoh follows Inui’s lead, sucking when Inui does and opening his mouth wider when he can tell Inui wants him to, and then he gets a daring little idea and bites down on Inui’s bottom lip, which Inui definitely seems to appreciate, judging by the way he makes a muffled noise and rocks his hips forward. Kaidoh gasps at this, because it’s another thing he wasn’t expecting to enjoy, but the sparks shooting through his body from where their hips are touching make it so that he can’t _not_ enjoy it, and when he opens his eyes to get a glimpse of Inui’s face he even forgets to feel guilty.

Inui’s eyes open then, too, and they both stop at once, lips not quite touching but breathing into each other’s mouths, and Kaidoh’s cheeks might be burning but Inui’s eyes are drowsy and content, which is enough to make Kaidoh break into a smile. They stand there and breathe, still clutching each other, and Kaidoh can’t stop smiling so Inui starts to smile as well, and he kisses Kaidoh again, short and tender this time, before he moves back just enough that Kaidoh isn’t practically sitting on the counter anymore and runs a hand through Kaidoh’s hair.

“Maybe I should get contacts?” Inui says with a smirk.

“No!” Kaidoh says quickly, and he picks Inui’s glasses up from the counter, unfolding the arms and slipping them over his ears.

Inui is thoroughly taken aback by this, Kaidoh is pleased to notice – especially pleased because he can tell even with the glasses back on.

“I like your glasses,” Kaidoh says earnestly. “And . . . I like being the only one who gets to see your eyes.”

“Oh,” Inui says, and Kaidoh doesn’t miss the grin when he ducks down to adjust his frames.

Kaidoh is seriously considering taking hold of Inui’s shirt collar to pull him in again when a hesitant meow alerts them both to Michiko’s presence in the doorway. Kaidoh smiles at the same time Inui frowns.

“I should return her to the neighbors,” Inui says, stepping forward, but Kaidoh is already scooping the cat into his arms.

“No, it wasn’t her fault,” Kaidoh says, then freezes when the meaning behind Inui’s words fully sinks in. “Wait – I thought you said you your neighbors were gone?”

Kaidoh can’t be sure, but he’s fairly confident that behind his glasses, Inui’s eyes shift to the side.

_end_  



End file.
